


dìon

by oopsabird



Category: DC Extended Universe, Wonder Woman (2017), Wonder Woman - All Media Types
Genre: Fluff, Gen, M/M, Mutually Oblivious Pining, Pre-Slash, Sharing Clothes, Winter, epilogue compliant, mild whump, sober Charlie
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-01-08
Updated: 2019-01-08
Packaged: 2019-10-06 13:10:42
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,944
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17345828
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/oopsabird/pseuds/oopsabird
Summary: dìon— Scottish Gaelic; verb meaning “to protect”, “to safeguard”, or “to shelter”.or;Sami vs the forces of winter.





	dìon

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Elri](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Elri/gifts).



> Well, this only took a year to complete! And now it is a gift for dear Elri for our three-person SamiCharlie ~~Christmas~~ Winter Gift Exchange. Hurrah! Merry Whatever, friend.
> 
> Many of my usual rules apply: set post-movie, compliant with the "Epilogue - Etta's Mission" short in that the fellas are running govt ops with Etta and Charlie quit drinking at the end of the war.
> 
> Thank you to Kate for spellchecking me!

        In a roundabout way, Sami supposed this was his own fault for getting himself captured.

        He wrapped his arms tight around himself, trying hard to hide the fact that he was shivering. He didn’t want the team to feel bad for not having anything much to give him — they couldn’t have really anticipated his captors were going to strip him of his stolen uniform, leaving him in only pants, shirtsleeves, and sock feet when rescue finally arrived. Nor could they have foreseen that they’d have to abandon the truck when it ran off the road in the snow. The best they had been able to give him was a spare pair of leather gloves found in Charlie’s coat pocket.

        Still, at least Sami had managed to nab a pair of riding boots from an incapacitated guard at the compound — trekking through the snow in his socks would’ve been one indignity too far. Too bad the man’s jacket had been too shot full of holes to be useful. He regretted not taking it now, regardless — it certainly would’ve been better than nothing.

        No matter how many years Sami had spent living and working across Europe (and it had been many), he still didn’t feel like he’d truly adapted to the winters here, bitter as they could be.

        It wasn’t that he hated the cold, mind. Cold could be beautiful — it was, even now as it numbed his nose and tried its damndest to freeze his kneecaps off.

        The thick blanket of soft unbroken snow, stretching out between the tall dark tree trunks in every direction, covering the needle-branched canopy overhead and enveloping the forest in silence; that was beautiful.

        The large, fluffy snowflakes drifting intermittently through the frosty air to alight on the woolen fabric of Etta’s dark blue coat, like stars against a midnight sky as she forged the path in front of them, a few stray red curls escaping from the fur of her hat to flash against the backdrop of snow; that was beautiful.

        The way the slight winter wind nipped at Charlie’s cheeks and sharp nose, flushing them a rosy pink in contrast to his usually pale complexion and the dark wool of his knitted cap, swirling the fabric of his uniform cloak; well, that was beautiful too — only Sami had promised himself not to dwell on such things, so he redirected his attention forward to the stars falling on Etta’s shoulders instead.

        Cold could be beautiful, but just as often Sami found it to be harsh and unrelenting.

        The carpet of snow which buried the forest in soft silence persistently crept over the tops of his boots and seeped down toward his feet, making his socks damp.

        The same snowflakes which built constellations on Etta’s coat kept floating straight down the back of his collar, biting at his spine.

        The icy breeze which put roses in Charlie’s cheeks also insisted on weaseling its way between the buttons of Sami’s shirt, pressing itself against his thin undershirt and chilling him to the bone.

        For all that Sami admired the beauty of winter, he absolutely would’ve preferred to do so from behind a window, or under the warm fabric of his own coat. Perhaps several coats.

        Still, he knew there was little that could be done until they reached some sort of civilization, so he tucked his hands further into his armpits and his head further into his shoulders, and decided to just be thankful it wasn’t any colder. This was only a few degrees below zero, and he knew these parts could see temperatures much worse than that. So he was grateful, really. Truly.

        And if he walked a little closer to Charlie’s side, letting their shoulders press together — well, Charlie was warm, and this was a matter of survival, or comfort or whatever. Nothing more to it than that. Or at least, that’s what Sami would have said if questioned on it — he was a masterful liar, after all.

        Of course, there was another consequence to being pressed side-by-side, one Sami had somewhat neglected to consider. When the next gust of cold wind slipped down his collar and forced an unstoppable full-body shiver to wrack his body, Charlie felt it too, glancing over at him with a furrowed brow.

        Sami winced, embarrassed.

        “Hold up.” Charlie spoke sharply as he drew to a halt, his voice splitting the silence wide open. “Etta, can we stop for a second?”

        “What is it?” She stopped and turned in place so suddenly that Sami — at this point driven forward mostly by inertia — nearly ran into her and only just stopped short, blinking belatedly down at her in hazy surprise. Etta frowned at him, tilting her head in question.

        “Sami’s bloody freezing,” Charlie said, reaching up to fiddle with the collar fasteners of his cloak, brow folded in concern as his eyes darted Sami’s way.

        “I am f-fine,” Sami said, with an action he thought was a nonchalant shrug, but which he knew absolutely came across as a shiver to match the unruly stutter in his voice. He tried a reassuring smile. “Let’s just k-keep moving.”

        “Yes Charlie, the sooner we get to a village, the sooner we can _all_  get warmed up,” Etta huffed, clearly lacking the patience for whatever Charlie was up to right now.

        “Just a minute,” Charlie muttered. Finally he succeeding in unclasping the neck of the cloak, which Sami realized had been his task all along. Then, in one smooth movement Charlie swept the garment off of his own back, and swung it around to drape over Sami’s shoulders and tuck around his neck.

        Sami’s eyebrows flew up in surprise.

        “Lift your head,” Charlie said, thumb gently pressing up beneath Sami’s chin.

        Sami very deliberately did not look at Charlie’s dark blue eyes or rosy cheeks; he decided not to think about the clouds of warm breath ghosting against his own face. No, certainly not. He simply stared up at the edge of Charlie’s hat, a conveniently neutral point, and followed the instruction; Charlie hummed a noise of thanks, and deftly fastened the cloak’s collar around Sami’s neck.

        “There,” Charlie murmured, pulling the sides of the cloak closer together across Sami’s chest. “That oughta be much better, yeah?”

        Sami nodded and tugged the cape closer with a hum of appreciation, because it really really was an improvement. He reached out unthinking to touch the brass buttons of Charlie’s wool jacket with gloved fingertips, glancing from them to Charlie’s face. “Won’t you be cold?”

        “Nah,” Charlie said kindly, shaking his head and gently brushing Sami’s hand away. “This here’s a good, warm jacket; and I’ve got more than enough layers on underneath — includin’ my long underwear.” He grinned and gave a wink, a gesture which in this instance Sami couldn’t have begun to try interpreting for the life of him.

        “Oh for goodness sakes Charlie! Absolutely no one wants to hear about that!” Etta huffed, rolling her eyes and starting off down the path again.

        Sami couldn’t help but snicker as he fell back into step beside Charlie in her wake.

        As they walked, he could feel Charlie glancing over at him several times, and wondered if he truly looked so poorly that attentive concern was warranted. Surely he didn’t appear to be on the brink of death?

        “Etta,” Charlie said, breaking the silence again, “look back here for a second.”

        Etta stopped, looking to the sky and muttering something under her breath before turning to face them with a slightly tight smile. “Yes, Charlie?”

        “What’s he look like to you right now?” Charlie gestured at Sami from head to toe. “With the curls, and the cape with the tall boots, shirt and gloves an’ all that.”

        Etta eyed him like one might an aging relative who’s said something not-quite-right; sidelong and politely confused. “...Our friend Sameer, freezing his arse off in a bunch of borrowed clothing?”

        Charlie sighed, rolling his eyes in exasperation. “Well yeah, but _other_  than that!”

        Etta shook her head. “Charlie, I genuinely have no idea what you’re getting at.”

        “Why, he’s Prince Charming, ‘course!” Charlie grinned. “Like a picture from a storybook — all he’s missin’ is the sword and some gilt decorations.”

        Despite the cold, Sami suddenly felt his face grow quite warm. Charlie thought he looked like a storybook prince? Surely he had misheard.

        Etta stared at Charlie like he’d just grown a second head. “Has your brain frozen solid?”

        Charlie scowled. “Now that’s just rude to both of us!”

        “Charlie-”

        “Look, could we _please_  start walking again?” Sami interjected, trying hard not to sound like he was whining. “Royalty or not, my ears are freezing off.”

        “Sami is right, we have a mission to finish!” Etta declared. “So let’s do get a move on before he really does catch his death.” And just like that she spun on her heel and was off again, forging forward through the snow.

        They fell in to follow her, walking in silence.

        “You know you can borrow my hat if you need, to keep your ears from freezin’ off,” Charlie said quietly as he and Sami carried on side-by-side. “I’m still pretty warm, and besides I’ve got enough ears to spare ‘case I lose any.”

        Sami chuckled, but shook his head. “No Charlie, it’s alright. Please, keep your hat _and_  your ears, I am plenty warm now.” He paused for a moment, and chanced a glance over as he said “Thank you, by the way. For the cloak."

        “Ach, it’s nothin’.” Charlie waved him off, smiling just a little bit. “Figured with all the times you’ve taken care of me over the years, least I could do is take care of you.” His smile faded in the next moment. “Especially after I let you get captured.”

        Sami sighed, a white cloud puffing out into the air. “It was not your fault, _mon ami_. I should have been more careful.”

        Charlie shook his head. “No, you’re my teammate, and you’re my best friend. We’re supposed to look out for each other, and I failed.” He lifted his chin and swallowed hard, fixing his gaze on some indeterminate point up ahead. “Won’t happen again though. Promise.”

        “Do not be so hard on yourself, _matraba_ ,” Sami said, reaching up from under the cape to lay a hand on Charlie’s shoulder, drawing his gaze. “You did not fail.” Sami smiled at him, reassuring. “You all came back for me, and you saved me from getting myself captured yet again. What success could be more important than that?”

        Charlie sighed, giving him a tight-lipped half smile in return. “Maybe you’re right.”

        “Of course I’m right,” Sami lifted his chin in the air, dropping his hand to tuck it back under the cloak. “I am always right. That’s just how the world works.”

        Charlie snorted. “Right. Bet Etta would have somethin’ to say about that, your highness.” He looked forward, raising his voice. “Hey, boss-”

        “No, Charlie don’t tell her-”

        “ _What_  do you want now?!”

        Charlie grinned. “Sami says that-”

        “Oh _mon dieu_ -”

        The three of them bickered their way through the forest and all the way to the village, where Chief was waiting with a new truck and a too-big fur-lined coat for Sami to all too gratefully bundle into.

        And when he insisted on re-fastening the cape around Charlie’s neck for him afterwards, and Etta rolled her eyes and muttered something to Chief that Sami didn’t catch, the rosy flush of Charlie’s cheeks deepened by a shade, matched with a nervous but earnest crooked smile.

        Yes, Sami thought to himself; for all of their apparent harshness, cold things could truly be beautiful.

**Author's Note:**

> I have a vague feeling Sami is the sort who gets captured too much and has a dozen wild stories about all of the times it's happened. I also feel like Charlie is a real shit-disturber when he's sober, in an endearing sort of way. And I'm certain that Sami, having grown up in the North African desert country Morocco, would have _very_ strong opinions about Europe's winter weather - in the movie he wears two overcoats sometimes! Over a suit!
> 
>  _matraba_ (مطربة) is an Arabic word meaning "one who sings" or in this case "songbird", which I've started writing as a fond nickname Sami uses for Charlie from early on in their friendship. Charlie has no idea what it means (in this fic, anyway).
> 
> Gaelic vocabulary was courtesy of the fantastic dictionary at [learngaelic.scot](https://learngaelic.scot/dictionary/index.jsp?abairt=d%C3%ACon&slang=both&wholeword=false), a wonderful wonderful resource.
> 
> I can be found making bad Wonder Woman memes and shouting SamiCharlie and nonsense into the void on tumblr [@oopsabird](https://oopsabird.tumblr.com/).


End file.
